I have currently just finished working on a civics project (analization of political cartoons) My brother is currently playing legend of zelda twilight princess and i'm eating some cookies and cream ice cream at the moment. Don't know what else to say now so i shall stop now.
wow that was pretty bad compared to normal....I don't usually forget punctuation and the like.
Originally posted by Synthlight
I only exist on the second tuesday of the 5 week each month.
I thought I'd try typing something with my eyes closed, too. Reminds me of one time in Elementary school when this kid was typing up a paper or something, but he wasn't looking, and he had placed his hands one key to the left of normal, and he ended up typing a few sentences with all the letters one to the left of what they were supposed to be. And I'm also reminded of how, like, some "Learn to Type" programs don't allow you to use the backspave button, and that really aggravates me, because I always backspace when I can feel there's something wrong with what I type. Ahaha, I'm not as good with counting the number of times I have to backsapce, though. Like I missed a comma just then, and I missed an "N" in "Something" earlier... ... Eh. Yeah, I'll read how it turns out afterward.
I'm not sure what else to say at the moment, but... I can say that it is fun knowing that I don't suck as much at typing as I used to. I used to not be able to type without looking at the keyboard.
Afterward: Haha. The only word I messed up was "backspace", and I did so twice. And a third time just then while my eyes were open.
P.S. I've kinda had to learn how to type without looking at the keyboard, now, because the keyboard is on one of those little roll-out thingies under the desk. And I hit my fingers on the underside of the desk when I play FFR. ):
I taught myself to learn how to type without looking anyways so having my eyes closed doesn't affect my typing at all.
Typing is familiar enough to me where even with eyes closed I'll know if I make a typo and be able to correct it >_> usually..
Nope, apparently I'm okay at typing with my eyes shut. It's not too hard, since I know the keyboard layout well and I don't usually look at the keyboard when I type.
like whoa jewpinthethird...your icon is super amazing, scrumdidilyumcious, and did i mention i almost had a seizure? now lets try my number skills. when 1 w45 7 i s33m3d t0 c0rr3ct mys2lf w17h pr4ct1c3. i doubt i can do the shift ones though...lets give it a shot. [email protected], i have $13, 3 _ 2 5, 13% of nothing is 3 * 0, 2^2 is 4, (this is in parenthesis), umm what have i forgotten...i didnt do ! or...i think thats all of them :/. oh wait all the keys haha. but i dunno which ones i haven't done yet. <>/\|[]{}-_ and backspac. k lets see how i did.
EDIT: lets see, apparently 2 and 3 got messed up, missed some shifted number keys and the math didnt work out lol. 3 + 5 = 5 is right. and alot of letters are missing for me doing all of them...im not too bad
My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.
I grew up slowly beside the tides and marshes of Colleton; my arms were tawny and strong from working long days on the shrimp boat in the blazing South Carolina heat. Because I was a Wingo, I worked as soon as I could walk; I could pick a blue crab clean when I was five. I had killed my first deer by the age of seven, and at nine was regularly putting meat on my family's table. I was born and raised on a Carolina sea island and I carried the sunshine of the low-country, inked in dark gold, on my back and shoulders. As a boy I was happy above the channels, navigating a small boat between the sandbars with their quiet nation of oysters exposed on the brown flats at the low watermark. I knew every shrimper by name, and they knew me and sounded their horns when they passed me fishing in the river.
When I was ten I killed a bald eagle for pleasure, for the singularity of the act, despite the divine, exhilarating beauty of its solitary flight over schools of whiting. It was the only thing I had ever killed that I had never seen before. After my father beat me for breaking the law and for killing the last eagle in Colleton County, he made me build a fire, dress the bird, and eat its flesh as tears rolled down my face. Then he turned me in to Sheriff Benson, who locked me in a cell for over an hour. My father took the feathers and made a crude Indian headdress for me to wear to school. He believed in the expiation of sin. I wore the headdress for weeks, until it began to disintegrate feather by feather.
All done without looking at the screen or fingers. The Prince of Tides is an awesome book.
Best Scores: Love-Colored Master Spark AAA, Mute City Remix AAA, Over the Rave AAA, TGWP3 3 good.
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